Rhythm of the War Drums
by hitokiri.black
Summary: Counting bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums. An alternate ending to Faramir and his brother Boromir, with twists here and there....


_Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR or A Perfect Circle…blah blah. _

**The Rhythm of the War Drums **

The wind swept the air through the young teens brown hair as he looked out onto the decaying landscape. To his left lay great mountains, hosts of dwarfs scattered at its base. His nose picked up the tainted scent of blood on the wind and he turned to gaze at the bodies of men and dwarf.

His shadow cast long in front of him as the blade of his own sword glittered with wet blood. His ears picked up the faint sounds of small feet behind him and he turned slowly and smiled sadly when he saw the slender figure of his younger brother. The boys face was alight with fear and gray orbs looked onto him with desperation. He held a sword that looked far too big for his slender fingers and a familiar liquid ran down the sliver blade. He moved over to the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder.

_Don't fret precious I'm here…_

The boy pulled the hand closer and griped it desperately. Boromir gave a sudden laugh and pushed the child towards the small tents. The boy looked back to his brother, a question in his eyes. The teen nodded and took a small glance at the battle field behind him. Dwarfs were making another futile attempt at an attack. He looked back to the other and nodded again.

"Go, Faramir." He said and gestured to the tent.

_Step away from the window…_

Faramir looked to the tent and shook his head. Boromir gave an exasperated sigh and walked over to him. Giving him an almost rough push to start him off they walked towards the tent. A calloused hand moved the flap open and Faramir stumbled into the small enclosure. The only furnishing was a small bundle of blankets to one side and a lamp. Boromir pushed the boy to the blankets and gave him a small smile.

_Go back to sleep._

"Boromir?" Faramir called as he untangled himself from the blankets. He stood and looked to his older brother. "Where are you going?" he asked softly and looked to the floor. The elder moved over to him and flicked Faramir's chin up and looked him in the eyes.

"Outside." He said simply and looked at boy's stained clothing with gray eyes. The same eyes stared back and continually flickered to the partially open flap. Boromir followed his eyes and door. He shook his head and pushed the boy back to the blankets where he promptly fell.

_Safe from pain and truth and choice…_

Movement other then their own caught Boromir's ears and his hand tightened on the blooded sword. The breath hissed out of his teeth and gray eyes darted around the tent. Faramir did the same and caught sight of a stout shadow crossing behind Boromir.

"Brother!" he yelled and pointed towards the creeping shadow. Boromir turned and was narrowly missed by a black arrow. The tip glinted as it pierced through the light canvas. The older brother flashed an approving smile towards his sibling and rushed outside, cutting down the shadow outside.

_And other poison devils…_

A whimper escaped Faramir's mouth as he watched the quick ending dual. His brother's sword flashed and soon the body of his short foe was lying at his feet. Pushing the dwarf away from the entrance, he slid back in, the sword glistening wetly once again.

_See they don't give a fuck about you…_

A soft sigh of relief sounded from Faramir's lips and he ran to his bother and pulled him in to an embrace. A look of surprise lit Boromir's face for a moment before he placed a hand on the boys head and patted him. He let the instant linger before pushing the child away from him.

_Like I do. _

He gave him a nod and walked to the opening. Looking back once more he stepped out and let his brother to stand in the tent.

Boromir looked out to the field and saw the countless bodies that now littered the ground. Running to reach his men, he joined them and gazed upon a new scene. Bodies' large and small lay scattered as pebbles in the lake shore. He nodded gravely and gestured one of his officers to him.

He whispered into the older man's ear, who nodded and jogged towards another war stained man. Boromir again looked over the clearing and searched for his prize. Amid the countless dead he spotted his trophy.

_Count the bodies like sheep…_

As the smiles spread across his young face, he walked towards a wounded dwarf. Stopping inches from his head he squatted down and pulled up his head. The dwarf groaned and grimaced as he looked up the Man of Gondor. His thick hooded eyes looked at the teen and defeat registered deep inside him.

"Belin..." Said Boromir with an evil smile, and gestured out at the dead around him. "Look upon your army." The dwarf sadly studied the plain and shook his head.

_Count the bodies like sheep…_

Boromir smiled and his eyes glinted.

"Moria is Gondor's." He hissed with satisfaction, and stood. However question dawned in the gray eyes. He leaned back down and looked back to the dwarf. "What drove you out of the taverns, Dwarf?" he asked softly.

Belin flinched and shook his head again, gazing sightlessly towards the mountain he had lovingly cared for. "The Drums….." he said softly and the light and life in his body vanished. He became one of the countless dead.

_Count bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums…_

A shadow crossed Boromir's face and turned to the black mountains. A river ran along the edge of the landform, the moat of a gigantic castle. He looked to the sliver trail and again gestured to another of his men.

The whispers of the man were urgent and hopeful and soon his reactions were rewarded with an eager smile form his commanding officer. "Bring him to me." Boromir said and looked to the fallen dwarf leader beside him. Giving him a sneer, he turned to the man beside him and followed.

_Count bodies like sheep…_

He was brought to a small tent not far from his sleeping brother, and when the entrance was pulled back a sudden crash sounded in his ears. A timid man with an empty tray in his hands stood at the back of the tent, the contents of the tray scattered on the floor around a very temperamental looking dwarf. The creature was chained to the center poll, and he gave another angry lurch at the timid man, who tried to make himself as small as he possibly could, as a whimper escaped his mouth.

Boromir looked to the man with disgust and gestured for him to move out of the tent, which he did with a guilty look on his face. Boromir then turned to the dwarf and smirked at him.

"Your lord Belin is dead, dwarf." He said bluntly and basked in the sudden change of the dwarfs temper. The rough face fell and his efforts at escape ceased. He was a young dwarf by their years, and his large battle axe lay off to the side, clear out of the reach of its owner. His lips muttered words in his language, which Boromir recognized as a mourning song of the dead.

Boromir let the dwarf sing his song then he squatted down beside him and pulled the creatures face up to meet him. The black blood shot eyes shone with sorrow and for an instant Boromir could feel his sadness. However the moment passed and his heart hardened once again.

"I need the location of an entrance to the mines." He whispered. The dwarf shook his head and turned away.

"You are not our friend, Man of Gondor." He hissed and tried to strike out at Boromir with his foot. The commander punched the dwarf at his words and grabbed the beard that was the pride of every dwarf. Taking out a knife from his belt he slashed at the hair, cutting it short and drawing blood form his chin. The dwarf flinched at the cut and he looked away from his now beardless face.

"Your head is next." Said Boromir with a strange malice in his voice. The dwarf looked up at him and gave a heartless nod.

"I will show you then." he said softly and ashamed. Boromir frowned a moment and spat down at the ground.

"A disgrace." He hissed at the dwarf and through his beard back at him. With one last look he marched out of the tent shouting commands to have a company ready to go with him into the mines. Men rushed to obey and a group was assembled in moments.

With a nod of satisfaction the teen looked over the men before him, however he paused on a boy at the end of the line.

"Faramir…you wish to come?" he said harshly. The boy gave a half-hearted but stubborn nod and stood at attention. His brother nodded and grabbed a bow from another of the men. "This is yours. A sword is not your weapon."

Excitement raced in the mind of the boy and he nodded and smiled, clutching the bow to his chest.

Boromir gave him a nod and looked over to another leader, and smiled.

"We go into the mines then…?" asked a younger man in the line. Boromir nodded.

"Mithrail is in these mines, and know that Gondor has more use for them then dwarfs."

* * *

I lied...I seem to be doing that alot lately. I had said that this was going to be a one-shot...but...yah.

Any way, the song is one of the best and if you hadn't guessed, the lyrics are Boromir's more "Tender" thoughts if you get my meaning. This is my first ever LOTR fic, so be nice please. and dont forget to R&R!.


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